Vampirism
by limevox
Summary: He couldn't be the reason she was dying. And he wouldn't be. He made sure of that. Dark content. YorixZero


**Vampirism**

 **Summary:** He couldn't be the reason she was dying. And he wouldn't be. He made sure of that. Dark content. YorixZero

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Jagged blades of grass digging into her skin, the darkness beyond the trees, a pair of hands and the colour red.

Those were the recurring images haunting deep within Sayori's subconscious in her slumber. Those four key elements that presented themselves individually, in pairs or all at once, attacking the faucets of her mind in nightmares.

The soft blades of grass tickled the soles of her feet as she ran without direction through the outskirts of Cross Academy, the moon bright and illuminating, but never did she dare cross beyond the wall of trees. The further she ran away from the buildings of Cross Academy and into the wind, the grass grew taller until they whipped at the sides of her legs, unforgiving blades creating red marks on her pale skin.

The darkness beyond the trees grew intense, like a storm readying itself to consume all in its wake. The skeletal leafless trees danced in the chill wind, as if they were mocking her.

The hands. The unmistakable pair of rough hands that caressed her skin, snaked up her arms and settled in the crevices of her neck and collarbone followed by the feeling of air being forced out of her lungs in a quick and sudden gasp. The grip slackens, only to relocate to her shoulders, holding her limp body down against the grass, pushing her deep into the soft soil.

And the colour red. The deep and evocative crimson that began at her peripherals and melted until it blinded her retinas. Then all at once, everything became numb.

It was always the same ending, her eyes shoot open, wide with horror as sweat dripped down the sides of her pale face. Her sleep deprived eyes concentrated on the plain whiteness of her ceiling, slowly acclimating to the surroundings of her plain room. She breathed out an uneasy breath she didn't know she was holding in and slowly made her way to the bathroom, running the tap quick and numbingly cold.

Washing the grogginess from her face and going about her morning routines, she stopped in front of the mirror and instinctively began feeling the pulse on her neck, trying to lull herself to a calm demeanor before leaving her empty room with a soft click.

She walked about the hallways, attended her morning classes and found herself on the outskirts of Cross Academy by lunch, leaned up against an oak resting in the shade. She pulled out her weekly readings and slowly began the boring ritual that was her life; homework, loneliness, nightmare induced sleep, repeat.

Not far off, in the darkened hallways of the excluded student housing consisting of one particular student; glass was shattering, sheets were torn and furniture thrown.

His head was pounding three times more intense than the dull lull of thirst he grew accustomed to. The sweat forming on his back, forehead and hands signaled another episode of anger, fear and pain collectively attacking at his sanity. The slow but powerful pull of darkness tugged at the edges of his consciousness, swallowing him up as he felt a scream tear through his larynx. He held his head between his hands, rocking back and forth willing the inevitable blackout away, scratching and pulling at his white hair in a feeble attempt to hold onto reality.

But the stinging continued, his burst eardrums rung in tandem with his vision blurring to technicolours.

He collapsed to the floor, convulsing as he let his animalistic fight or flight reactions take over. He clawed at his neck, yearning for the taste or smell of liquid iron satiate his thirst. He poorly attempted to reach for the half empty packet of blood tablets, poisonous, useless, the very thing causing this animalistic reaction. Out of desperation to take the edge off, he tore the packet with the bare of his fangs and swallowed a handful.

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. .

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The sound of glass shattering echoed the empty hallways and now dark Cross Academy.

Yori woke up in surprise at the sudden but faint sound. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and looked at her surroundings to remind herself of where she was.

The secluded outskirts, just before the trees grew in thick clusters.

She stifled a yawn and quickly marked the edge of her page before throwing it in the bag next to her, flattening her skirt as she slowly stood up. She took in her surroundings, the quiet and peaceful environment that was all too rare, but all too familiar. The sun was almost fully set, save for the light purple that leaked just above it.

She felt the chill air brush against her legs and arms in a frightening caress. She began making her way back towards the girl's dorms, taking the long way back along the edge of the trees. The air around her seemed to grow colder, and she felt like she was being watched. Her steps quickened into a power walk, the grass caressing her ankles as if they were trying to comfort her. She began hearing the rustling of leaves and grass moving in unison with her.

She put two fingers at the pulse along her neck, feeling it race on without end, trying to take deep breathes between each step she took. She quickly swung her head around when she heard a sudden swoop, but was met with nothing. She felt her pulse miss a beat, but begin to slow down at the sight of no one or thing. She turned around to continue making her way back to the dorms only to be stopped by a white haired boy.

"Oh its just you Zero," She breathed out in relief, her pulse almost back to normal

He stood still, his fringe covering his face, his shoulders slumped forward, mouth parted ever so slightly, his hands clenched.

"Zero? Are you okay?"

She could almost hear his shallow breathing, almost a hissing sound escape from his mouth. His head tilts up ever so slightly to show his eyes – his eyes were something else. But she didn't see the intent deep in his pupils, she was distracted by the scratch marks, the cuts and bruises along his neck and arms.

"What happened?" She began, taking half a step before suddenly a blue of black white and red threw itself at her.

His head was pounding, thump, thump.

He kept hearing the thumping slowly... Then something threw him off, it was louder... And a different pitch. No. It was a different sound all together.

He could smell a human. The animal in his felt a flare in the depths of his body. He was fatigued, he couldn't see straight. He felt his only salvation pass. But no. He heard footsteps, and a blurred shadow appeared before his. He saw a patch of blonde in his washed eyes followed by the sound of grass crunching underneath someone's foot.

He felt his body raw, blood escaping the cuts. He felt it take over him. He quickly grabbed the hand and pulled the body to the floor, pouncing on the closest flesh and devouring it. He ripped whatever was in his way and held down the kicking and screaming figure with just his dead weight. His fangs punctured the skin and tore it apart, sucking all the blood he could eat. He kept eating and eating for what felt like an hour until the taste was as stale.

Slowly his vision returned as if he was waking up from a nap. He felt a thick substance covering his hands like a second skin, and the recognizable scent of blood filled air. He felt the tingle of that smell on his tastebuds and then suddenly all at once felt satisfied with… everything.

He had just eaten.

He suddenly noticed a figure in front of him, a girl in uniform, short blonde hair covering her face. But he already knew from the smell, the taste – months of desire, that that was Yori.

His heart stopped.

He didn't.

She was barely breathing, her eyes were unfocused, her clothes ripped, her arms, legs and body covered in malicious bite marks. Tears were in the corner of her eyes.

He was a monster.

He brushed her hair aside as her eyes slowly began to close and the air in her lungs let out a struggled breath. He felt bile form in the back of his throat; he couldn't live with the guilt of knowing he killed her.

So he did the next worst thing he could think of. He bit roughly into his wrist, tearing it until blood spilled everywhere, embracing the deep and thorough experience of deserving pain. He brought it to her lips and let the crimson liquid pour into her mouth and slide down her cheeks. He couldn't deal with himself being the reason she died. And as long as her eyes were open he wouldn't have been the reason. Even if the next time she opened them they'd be the deepest and deadliest of red.


End file.
